Page 68 of Knox

I turned my face away. I couldn’t bear to see the softness in his eyes. But his hand cupped my jaw, forcing me to look at him.

“You think I don’t feel it, too?” he asked, brushing his lips against mine. “You think I don’t see his face every time I close my goddamn eyes?”

I tried to shove him away, but I didn’t have any strength left.

“I’m not going to hate you, Caroline, for feeling human. You’re not the only one carrying pain.” The confidence in his voice wavered. I felt his arms trembling on either side of me. “You’re not alone in this. I’m not letting you be.”

My throat tightened, and I knew if I opened my mouth, all that was going to come out was a sob. Knox waited until I swallowed it down. Then I whispered, “I can’t want you. I can’t want this?—”

“You do want this,” Knox growled, hovering over me, caging me with his body. “You can want this.”

I didn’t even fight when he nudged my legs open with his knees. “You want me. You want to forget. Same as me. You want to push me away? Fine. But I’ll still be right fucking here.”

Knox kissed me before I could argue. It was rough and bruising and claiming.

I squirmed, hating myself, undeserving of someone so?—

His hand went between my thighs and palmed my core.

“Your mouth says no, spitfire,” he rumbled, “but your pussy’s screaming for me.”

My hips bucked without my consent. “No,” I lied weakly.

“How many times I gotta tell you you’re mine?” he asked darkly as he stroked my wet folds, slow, teasing. “What’s mine don’t gotta fight. I fight for you.”

Knox kissed away a tear that escaped onto my cheek. It was so tender that I let out a sob. Knox pressed his mouth to mine, swallowing it. “Let me fucking have you, Caroline.”

Then he pressed his hard cock against my clit, wanting, needing, to replace his fingers. “What’s it gonna take?”

I blinked up at him. “What?”

He lifted my ass off the bed, hooking my legs on his shoulders, lining himself up. “What’s it gonna take to get you to let your guard down once and for all?”

We stared at each other for a long time. I was dripping for him. His face was battered and bruised, almost ugly, and he was grieving, but he still wanted us to fuck ourselves into oblivion. He saved me—multiple times. He’d put his head on the chopping block in front of his president, a goddamn death sentence if Jackson were Walter.

Selfless bastard.

“I don’t know.”

Knox nodded once slowly, like he had to process that. Then he said, “Hate me later if you want. Hate yourself, too. But right now, let yourself want something that won’t hurt you back.”

That unraveled me completely.

All I could whisper was, “Okay.”

Then he plunged inside of me in one smooth, hard thrust, and we did exactly what we’d wanted for hours—we forgot.

* * *

I fell asleep in his arms. When I woke, my body aching in the best fucking way, I sat up to see the clock. My soul didn’t quite ache as good. It was eleven at night. The limo had long gone.

I looked over my shoulder at Knox sleeping soundly. That was an impressive feat. He went through hell. The only escape besides sex was rest, and I didn’t want to take that from him.

Not after taking Gabriel.

My guilt was still eating me alive.

“Let yourself want something that won’t hurt you back.”

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